Goodbye Old Man
by BitOBonesFluff
Summary: I wanted to do a little piece about the departure of Pops from Booth's life. It's never really been addressed, so I thought I'd just give it my spin. There's no real time frame, except that it's post the wedding, and around 2014 when Ralph Waite (Pops) passed away. I have had it pointed out that as of 2015 hospitals have electronic hospital notes. I'm ignoring that as its pre 2015.
1. Chapter 1

Booth, frowned in the dark. He had been in a deep sleep. Something had woken him. He could feel her curled up against his arm, one hand lay heavily on his thigh. The silence in the room began to wrap itself around him again. Closing over his head, muting the world. He felt himself slipping back into that warm space that held his dreams.

The shrilling of the phone pulled him back out of that inky blackness. He lifted his head, trying to see the alarm clock.

"Who the hell?" he mumbled as he reached over his wife and fumbled to grab the phone. His hands were like large dead lumps of meat on the ends of his arms, his fine motor skills non existant as the phone crashed to the floor.

"Shit!"

"Booth?" Brennan muttered sleepily, looking around in the dark. "What's going on?" her voice was croaky.

"Sorry. Sorry Bones. Some idiot was ringing. I knocked the phone on the floor." he whispered. It was as if his voice was an intrusion on the night.

He was leaning across her body, trying to see where the phone was.

"Booth. You're squashing me" Brennan said, pushing him away from her. "I'll get it" she added, reaching out and flicking on the bedside lamp.

She leaned over the side of the bed, her hair falling down towards the floor as she looked under the bedside cabinet.

"Here it is" she began to say, jumping and almost dropping the phone again as it started ringing again.

Booth grabbed it out of her hand, determined to give whoever was calling at three am a blast.

"Who is this?" he barked into the phone. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

He didn't get a chance to say anything else as the voice on the other end relayed a stream of information.

"What? When? How?" was all he managed to say.

Brennan sat up, her hand pressed into the mattress, as she leaned towards him, trying to hear who was on the other end.

"Give me the phone" she whispered.

Booth shook his head, holding up a hand, palm facing her.

"I'm not sure. Maybe an hour or two? I can't think." he mumbled into the phone, one hand rubbing at his stubbled cheek. "I'll be there as soon as I can." he added before pressing the disconnect button. His hand dropped to the bed covers, still grasping the phone, his face drawn, almost grey.

"Booth?" she asked softly.

"It's Pops. He's had a stroke. They say he's in a coma. I need to go. They said. He might not. " his voice caught in his throat, causing him to choke on his next words. "Bones. What if. What. What if I'm too late?" his face blanched.

Brennan stared at his face. The man before her wasn't her husband any longer. He was an eight year old boy. He was a seventeen year old teenager. He was a twenty two year old young man.

"I gotta go Bones" he said again, finally looking at her. "I gotta go now. Tonight"

His eyes looked flat. The sparkle that always made her heart skip wasn't there. His mouth was being dragged down by the sadness that was filling his heart.

She nodded "I know. Of course you do. We both need to go." she said, continuing to nod. She swung her legs off the bed and stood up. She looked around and picked up the first piece of clothing she could find to pull over her nakedness. It was Booth's FBI tshirt.

She had a quick vision of herself last night, slowly peeling it up his body, over his broad chest, over his muscled shoulders, over his head, up the length of his arms which he held high over his head. She had thrown it over her shoulder not caring where it landed. She could smell him in the fabric. A deep, rich, earthy, muskiness that filled her with his strength.

He sat on the bed for a few more minutes, staring at the ripples in the blankets, the phone still clasped in his hand. He lifted it and stared at it.

"I don't have anyone to call" he said softly holding the phone out to her.

Brennan took the phone and placed it back on the bedside table and turned to smile sadly at Booth.

"Do you want me to try to find Jarrod?" she offered.

Booth shook his head, his mouth downturned "No. I don't want him there. Not now. He's been quite happy to be a stranger for the last five years. Last time I talked to Pops". The words caught in his throat. "Last time. He said he had given up on hoping that Jarrod would come back. It was easier to just accept that he didn't want to be part of our family anymore." Booth shook his head "Do you realise we don't even know where he is right now? If he's alive or dead? He's my only brother and he doesn't care whether we worry about him or not."

Brennan didn't really know what to say to him. She knew how that felt. Her own brother had been missing from her life for years before coming back into it. But it wasn't the same. Jarrod only ever cared about himself. He couldn't understand the guilt that Booth carried with him. So she said nothing.

They stayed staring at each other like this for what seemed like minutes. It was only a few seconds, but time seemed to be dragging it's heels.

"OK." she finally said, looking around the room. "How long do you think we will be gone? Shall I pack for a week? I'm going to call Angela to take Christine. Unless you want her to be there when. If." She stuttered "To see Pops"

Booth blinked and realised he was wasting precious time.

"No. I don't want her there. She's too young to be exposed to whatever is going on." He said firmly.

It went against Brennan's beliefs that illness and death were a natural part of life. It wasn't something to be hidden away. But she also knew how much Booth was hurting right now. And how scared he was. It was more about his daughter seeing him in a vulnerable state, rather than being her big, strong daddy.

"OK. If you think that's best" she said softly, patting him on the arm as she walked to the closet.

Booth nodded "I do" he replied.

 _What if he didn't get to Pops in time. What if he missed the chance to say thankyou. I love you. Goodbye._

He stood up and pulled on his sweatpants, not bothering to tie the cords. They hung loosely on his hips threatening to slide down.

"A week should be long enough. I'm sure he'll be OK. And if we need to stay a few extra days, we can do laundry." Booth said, trying to convince himself that all would be well after a couple of days. He couldn't bring himself to believe that Pops wouldn't pull himself up out of this.

He nodded as he walked around the bed, his feet sinking into the soft carpet of their bedroom. He wrapped his arms around Brennan and pressed his chin into her hair, closing his eyes "A week will be plenty of time" he said.

Brennan closed her eyes, feeling his arms closing in around her tighter, his chin pressing into the top of her head. She leaned into his chest and exhaled a long, slow breath.

 _I hope so_


	2. Chapter 2

"Booth, I really think I should drive" Brennan said, her hand gripping the door handle as Booth swerved between cars on the freeway.

"Why?" Booth said, his voice clipped.

"Booth!" she cried as he jammed on his brakes and pressed the ball of his hand on the horn, holding it down for an extended period.

"God dammit! Move your ass!" he bellowed.

Brennan closed her eyes, and tightened her grip on the handle as she felt the car shift position from right to left and then back again and considered that this praying thing that Booth did might actually come in handy right now.

Booth pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, the wheels locking up as it screeched to a halt. He threw open the door and tried to get out.

"Booth. Seatbelt?" Brennan said, pressing the button to release him from the strapping holding him in the car.

"Thanks. Can you lock the car? I'm going ahead" he called over his shoulder as he ran to the front doors of Emergency.

"Wait! Can you wait for me?" she called as she watched him run away from the car. "No. Apparently you can't wait for me." She added as she got out of the car, locked the doors and followed him.

Brennan knew how upset he was. Panicked, actually. His greatest fear about Pops was that when the end came he wouldn't get there in time.

* * *

Pushing through the main doors, she could hear him before she could see him. He was standing at the Information Counter yelling at the poor nurse on duty.

She immediately decided it was time to take over.

"Booth. Booth, this is not the way to get the information you need." She said firmly pushing him aside. "I'm very sorry. I'm Dr Temperance Brennan. This is my husband Mr Seeley Booth. We're here to see his grandfather Hank Booth. Or Henry Booth. I'm not sure how you will have him listed. We've just driven two hours and my husband is a little distraught. If we could see Hank, that would be good. And if there is a doctor available to speak to, I would appreciate getting his full diagnosis." she spoke firmly to the nurse.

The young woman nodded and checked her computer screen. "Mr Booth is in ICU. They're not allowing any visitors right now"

"No! No, unacceptable!" Booth banged on the counter

"Sir! If you do not lower your voice I will be forced to call security." the nurse said, frowning at Booth.

"Booth. Just let me." Brennan said, holding up a hand to Booth, then turned back to the nurse.

"Do you understand, I am DOCTOR Temperance Brennan. I'm fairly sure I'm fully qualified to go into an ICU unit to check on a patient. If you are uncertain about that, please page the most senior doctor on duty right now and have him come here to reception, where I shall be happy to inform him about your inability to direct us to the ICU."

Brennan's eyes were boring into the young nurses eyes, forcing her to look back at her computer screen and stammer. "Yes, yes of course. I am sorry Doctor Brennan. ICU is up on the second floor in the East wing. You can sign in here" she gestured to a clip board on the counter "Or at the ICU itself. Although if there isn't a nurse on the counter you will have to"

Brennan didn't stay to hear the rest of her sentence, she turned and grabbed Booth by the arm and led him towards the elevators.

Booth stood next to her, his posture slumped. His shoulders drooped forwards, his head hanging low. He was licking his bottom lip over and over. It was a nervous gesture. She reached over and lay her hand on his shoulder. He didn't shrug her off, so she left her hand there, gently rubbing up and down.

The elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. Brennan took two steps forward then turned to see Booth still standing there. She stepped back in and hooked her hand through his arm and led him out into the corridor.

"He'll be alright, won't he Bones" he whispered.

Brennan turned to face him. It was time for her to be the strong one. Time for her to hold him up and be a rock for him to cling to.

"Honestly, I can't say until we get into the ICU and I see his charts and speak to a specialist. If he is not being looked after by the top specialist, I will make sure that he gets transferred and receives the very best care. But we need to get in there to see him. You need to see him. Leave all the medical stuff to me. You just sit with him. Talk to him. Let him know you are with him." she said.

They signed in at the ICU desk pumped antiseptic onto their hands, donned gowns and quietly entered the room where Pops was.

Booth felt his lungs collapse as he saw the old man in the hospital bed in front of him. He wanted to turn and run out of the room and pretend that this wasn't happening. He walked slowly up to the bed, pulling a chair close behind him. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Pop's cheek. It felt warm, which was strangely comforting.

"Hey Pops. It's me. You doing OK now?" Booth sat down and picked up the old man's hand. The skin felt dry and crinkly. "Can you hear me Pops?"

Brennan walked over to the other side of the bed and leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead "Hi Hank. It's Temperance." She walked around the bed and lay her hands on Booth's shoulders and whispered into his ear "I'm going to go find Pops' doctor and then I'll go get us coffee" . she walked to the door and turned back to look at him. "Talk to him Booth. It's a documented fact that people in coma's can hear when people talk to them." She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Booth watched her leave, then turned back to stare at Pops. Words woudn't come. He took in every detail of the old man's face. His hair seemed even whiter, if that was possible. His skin looked a funny colour. Not skin coloured at all. His eyes were closed. He let his eyes trace the contours of his face. He noticed his nose had several blunt, coarse grey hairs growing out of the tip. He rubbed at his own nose, worrying that he might have inherited this trait. The skin of Pops cheeks, which looked so full when he was sitting up and smiling, seemed to sag towards his ears, distorting the features of the man that had raised him. Booth leaned in closer.

"Did you know your eyelashes are grey? Wow. I didn't know your eyelashes went grey." he said, then laughed at himself. _Of all things to say_. He shook his head.

"So, um. I'm here. Brennan's gone to talk to the doctors. Um. Christine is at Angela's for a few days. We're here for as long as you need us to be, OK Pops? We're going to be here every day until you're better."

 _Every day until you wake up_

"So the matron at the nursing home told me that you caused a bit of excitement. Apparently you took your swan dive in the middle of the dance floor during salsa classes? Your friend. Um girlfriend? Maisie?" Booth shook his head and frowned. "I actually thought her name was DeeAnne, but perhaps that was last month's love interest?" He laughed "You're definitely one of the more popular guys at the home. Well, Maisie took a little tumble when you fell. You kind of took her with you. But she wanted me to let you know she's OK. Just a bruised elbow and a run in her best stockings. Oh, and Matron told me that there's a prayer group for you, so that's nice"

Booth placed his hand back on the crisp white sheet and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed at his stubble.

"I don't know if you can hear me. Can you?" Booth closed his eyes, covered his face with his hands.

 _Can you hear me? Please? Dear God, don't do this. Don't let him go without knowing I'm here. I don't want him to think he's alone._

His hands slipped down in front of his mouth, palms pressed together.

 _All our times are in Thy hand._

 _All diseases come at Thy call, and go at Thy bidding._

* * *

Brennan stood quietly at the door, looking through the glass panel. She felt her heart thumping loudly. Any time Booth was in pain, she got this sensation. It was like they were linked by their hearts. She couldn't bring herself to interrupt him just yet.

So she stood, silently, watching her husband praying.


	3. Chapter 3

Booth's prayer halted as two soft hands slipped over his shoulders, fingers gently gripping and releasing. He inhaled deeply through his nose. He could smell her perfume. It helped mute the antiseptic odour that hung heavy in the room.

"Amen"

His hands parted and covered hers, his fingers wrapping around hers, pulling them to his mouth, where he pressed warm kisses into her palms. His eyes opened, as she leaned forwards. Her hair formed a veil over his face for a moment, then her lips were on his. Her breath intertwined with his.

The only sound in the room was the regular beeping of the machines monitoring Pops.

Booth managed to block them out for a moment. But it was short lived. Brennan pulled away. Her hands slipping across his cheeks and ears as she moved.

"I spoke to his specialist" she said as she pulled a chair next to his and sat down.

Booth pushed his hands between his knees and nodded, his bottom lip pushed out. He tilted his head slightly. Just enough so he could see her.

Brennan cleared her throat as she thought about how to tell Booth what she had learned. "Do you want me to tell you the good news or the bad news first?" she asked. She was attempting to lighten the mood. It didn't really work.

"You mean there is some good news?" Booth asked, trying to smile.

She shook her head involuntarily.

He turned away and looked at his grandfather. "He looks different, don't you think? His face is kind of rubbery. Why is that?" he turned back to her.

"Booth." she swallowed and her tongue flicked across her lips. "The good news is that he's not in any pain. He's comfortable." Brennan said softly.

Booth pulled one hand out from between his knees and held it out to Brennan. She took it and clasped it between both hands, resting them on her knee.

"While I was waiting for the coffee" she started to say.

"Coffee?" Booth asked, looking around.

Brennan jumped up from her chair, dropping his hand "Sorry, yes. I put them down when I first came in the room. You were praying, and I didn't want to interrupt" she walked over to the shelf underneath the long window and picked up the two large cups of coffee. She handed him one and sat down again. "It's not the best coffee. But it's hot" she said smiling. "Where was I? Oh yes, while I was waiting in line I remembered reading about a study. I looked it up on my phone and quickly read through it. The Controlled Trial of Familiar Auditory Sensory Training for Acute Severe Traumatic Brain Injuries, where researchers created audio recordings of family members telling a familiar story that the patients heard four times a week for six weeks. They gauged how the blood oxygen levels in the brain changed while listening to recordings by exposing patients to both familiar and unfamiliar voices telling different stories while in an MRI at baseline. Families of coma patients sat down with therapists to discuss at least eight important stories that would resonate with their loved ones. They believe hearing those stories in parents' and siblings' voices exercises the circuits in the brain responsible for long-term memories," Brennan spoke slowly, so Booth could follow. "That stimulation helped trigger the first glimmer of awareness in a percentage of these patients. At the end of the six weeks MRI scans revealed the patients' brains increased in neural activity when they heard a loved one calling out their name and telling a memorable story."

Booth frowned at her. "So what are you saying? I should record stories?"

Brennan shook her head, frustrated that she couldn't just make him understand what she was trying to say. "No. I'm saying that he can probably hear you. Us. Even now as we're talking. The mere sound of our voices, could be resonating with him. But mostly, your voice Booth. You're his Shrimp. You mean everything to him. He has lived his life always for you." Her voice trailed off.

Booth was sitting, staring at Pops. "So, do you know why he looks rubbery?" he asked.

Brennan frowned, then smiled to herself. Typical Booth. He was diverting. She sighed "Well, he's lying down, so all the loose skin reacts to gravity and pulls downwards. As for the err, rubbery look? I suppose that's because his colour isn't very good. His circulation is poor. Blood is probably not reaching everywhere it should" she stopped speaking. Blood wasn't circulating to his brain properly was what she was about to say. "Just talk to him Booth. Tell him all the things you want to say. Do it now, while you can. If he doesn't. If"

"If he doesn't wake up? You think he won't wake up, don't you?" he asked.

Brennan shrugged "There's always hope" she said.

Booth felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards. "That's my line"

Brennan smiled and took a sip of coffee.

"OK. So" he took a long swig of coffee. Sputtered, and looked at the cup, then at Brennan "This is supposed to be coffee?" he said.

Brennan started to giggle. He felt the laughter start to bubble in his chest and work it's way up to his mouth. He opened his mouth and laughed. Loudly. Strongly. It was a pure, clear laugh.

He turned to his grandfather "You're actually lucky right now Pops. There's no way you would want to be drinking this stuff they call coffee. First thing in the morning, we're going out to buy a coffee machine. I'll set it up over there in the corner. There's nothing like the smell of freshly brewed good coffee, is there Pops?" He look at Brennan grinning "Pops always said that it was the smell of Gran's coffee that really woke him up in the mornings. Even if he'd been out of bed for an hour, he was sleep walking until he smelled her coffee".

He looked round the hospital room "And I think we'll go pick up a few of your things. You might be here for a little while. Might as well make it a bit more homey. Whaddayasay?" he nodded, taking another mouthful of the coffee/swill, grimacing and laughing again.

Brennan leaned back in her seat and smiled. He'd get through this. And when it was time. She'd be right beside him to hold him up and steady his hand. For now. For now she would let him just be with his grandfather for as long as it took.

Booth took out his notebook and started making notes about the things he needed to get. He talked each item through with Hank. His voice was clear and strong. He made a joke and patted the old man's arm, letting his hand lie there, his fingers gently gripping his grandfathers forearm.

Brennan remained seated. Quiet. Answering Booth if a question was directed to her. Offering advice when needed. Booth soon had a comprehensive list of things he wanted to do straight after they left the hospital, and in the morning before they returned. He looked at his watch and stood up. Leaning over he kissed his grandfather on the forehead.

"Gotta get going Pops. We are going to stay at the hotel down the road, so if you need us, well, the nurse will be able to contact us quickly. I'm going to go to the nursing home this evening and pick up your things. Did you want me to let the girls know how you are? I will any way. They should know. They're probably missing you in dance class. See you in the morning Pops." he said, patting Hanks shoulder.

"Ooh! Remind me to grab a nice blanket from the store while we're there in the morning. Pops doesn't like these cotton weave blankets. Remember when he was in hospital for his prostate thing? He hated that blanket. It was never warm enough he said." he said to Brennan as they walked down the corridor towards the exit. He pulled out his notebook and jotted a note about the blanket in it.

Brennan knew that this was Booth's coping mechanism kicking in. It was tinged with denial, but that was how it would have to be for now.


	4. Chapter 4

Booth strode down the corridor with purpose. A box containing a coffee machine under one arm, a large department store bag full of bits and pieces retrieved from Pops room at the nursing home in his free hand. Brennan followed carrying a small travel bag. It contained pyjamas, toiletries, Hanks teeth, which had been removed at the time of his collapse. A robe, his slippers, socks, underwear, his favourite cardigan, and a scarf. These were things that Booth had decided he would need when he woke up. She thought that several of the items were not necessary at this point. He would be in a hospital gown for quite some time yet, but she didn't want to upset Booth, so she just packed them and brought the bag.

He reached ICU, found no one on duty, so he headed down the corridor to Pops room. He almost dropped the coffee machine when he got to the doorway. The room was empty. The bed stripped of sheets. A green plastic mattress on a grey metal frame was all that was in there. No machines, no sign of his grandfather.

Booth turned and quickly walked back down to the desk and put down the coffee machine. He started banging on the bell on the desk until a flustered nurse appeared.

"Do you mind? There are sick people here and you only needed to press the bell once Sir!" she said crossly.

"Hank Booth. Where is he? Is he alright? He's missing? Nobody called me to tell me anything" he blurted.

"Booth, give her a chance to answer" Brennan said softly.

"Oh. You're Mr Booth? His grandson. Yes, I was warned about you. Just a moment please." The nurse started flicking through her notes, then referred to the computer screen, tapping on the keyboard. "Ah. Yes."

She looked up at Booth and smiled. "Your grandfather has been moved to a private room. He was deemed stable and there have been no changes in his condition. He is on the fourth floor, room 417"

Booth allowed his body to relax, his shoulders dropping "Thank God" he said, blowing out the breath he had been holding. "Thankyou" he managed to say to the nurse before picking up the coffee machine and the bag he had dropped. He turned and rolled his eyes upwards "Upstairs!" he said as he headed towards the elevator.

Brennan nodded and thanked the nurse, then followed Booth down the corridor, struggling to keep up with him, he was almost jogging.

"Booth, why are you walking so fast! Can you wait for me please?" she called out to him.

He was standing at the elevator holding the door open, waiting for her. Clearly impatient, his foot was tapping.

"Do you think he has woken up?" he asked her, hope filling his eyes.

"Let's not get ahead of the horse and cart" she said, which made him frown, then smile at her.

"I think you mean let's not put the cart before the horse" he said, winking at her. After all these years, her ability to cock up common sayings still made him laugh.

"That's what I said" she huffed, changing the bag into her other hand.

"Actually no you didn't"

She shook her head "It's not really important."

DING!

"We're here. What was the room number?" she asked, changing the subject. Sometimes it irritated her that Booth always corrected her when she used common idioms. Surely it didn't matter that she didn't get them a hundred percent right. They made sense to her.

Booth started down the corridor, looking for room numbers, then stopped and doubled back walking past the elevators in the other direction.

"He's here!" he said, looking into a room and seeing Pops.

He hesitated at the door, looking through the glass panel of the door.

"What's wrong Booth?" Brennan asked, looking past his shoulder.

"He's not awake. He's still hooked up to the machines" he said, disappointment tinging his voice.

"Booth, it's barely been 24 hours. We have to give it time. It's far too soon" she said gently, pressing him to go through the door. "And that machine is just monitoring his heart, temperature, and possibly his breathing. Perfectly normal in Pop's situation. He's not on life support, so that's a good thing"

Booth pushed the door open and stepped through the doorway, looking around the room. It was small, but light and airy, with a large window. He walked over and looked out.

He shrugged, his bottom lip pursing outwards "This isn't so bad. Overlooks the central garden. It's nice!" he said, turning and smiling at Brennan. "Once we get his things put around the room. It'll feel more homely". He walked over to a small cupboard underneath the TV that was mounted on the wall and put down the box containing the coffee machine. "phew! I didn't realise that was so heavy!" he laughed.

Brennan smiled and put down the carry all with Pops clothing in it. He walked over and grabbed his notes from the end of his bed and perused them, flipping up the top sheet, her eyes taking in the important details at a glance. Her lips pursed as she read the doctors notes, then she replaced them and walked to the side of the bed next to Pop and leaned over and kissed his forehead, taking note of his temperature.

Booth flicked out the blanket and spread it across the foot of the bed, smoothing it across the two lumps that were Pops feet. "I brought your favourite blanket from your bed. I know you don't like these holey woven cotton things the hospital call blankets" he said.

He pulled several photo frames out of the bag and stood looking around the room. "They don't really have many spots for things do they Pops?" He placed one on the bedside cabinet making sure that it was well out of the way of the nurses. The other two he placed on the window ledge, leaning them against the glass of the window. He stood looking at them for a moment. One was of Bones and himself, laughing at the camera. It was taken on their honeymoon. One of the rare moments when they weren't chasing around, trying to catch a murderer. He smiled.

The other was of Christine and Parker, taken at their wedding. Christine was in her pink flower girl dress and Parker was wearing his tuxedo. Booth grinned because he could see the stain where Pops had spilled chilli on the lapel. They had tried to blot it out, somewhat successfully. His finger traced the faces of his children.

"That was his favourite I think" Brennan spoke, breaking Booths daydream.

"How do you figure that?" Booth asked, curious.

"Because it was at the very front of all his photos on his bedside table in his room. It was the one he looked at first every morning, and last thing at night. That must be because he loved it the most." she reasoned.

"Makes sense. Plus he always asks me when we are going to add another one to the photo. He's keen for us to give Christine a brother or sister." Booth said, pulling a clock out of the bag. He wound it and placed it next to the photo on the bedside cabinet. "There, now Pops can see the time. You know how he hates not being able to see a clock. I swear he's obsessed with time. There was a clock in every room when I was growing up. And he always made sure we were punctual for everything we did."

"Some people would posit it is just being polite to be on time, not obsessive." Brennan said, hanging Pops robe on the hook behind the door. "I myself always try to be on time." She returned to the bag and pulled out the old cardigan Booth insisted she pack. "Where do you want this?" she asked him.

He took it from her and hung it over the chair next to the bed. "When he wakes up, he'll say he's cold. It was always the first thing he put on" Booth said, stroking the woollen garment.

There was a narrow closet in the corner of the room next to the bathroom door. Brennan placed the remainder of Pops clothing on a shelf and put the carryall in the bottom of the cupboard.

Booth opened the box and unpacked the coffee machine, discarding the box and the foam packaging onto the floor.

"Booth! You can't just drop that foam onto the floor." Brennan said as she picked up the white foam and placed the two halves together and pushed them back into the cardboard box, making a loud squeaking sound as the packaging slid against the cardboard. She then picked up the box and walked to the door. "I'm going to go find a place to dispose of this. It's not at all good for the environment" she said shaking her head.

"uh huh" Booth muttered as he plugged in the coffee machine.

Brennan smiled and left the room.

"won't be long Pops and we'll soon have the delicious aroma's of delicious coffee filling the room" he said turning and looking at his grandfather. His mouth was watering at the mere thought of having a steaming hot mug of actual coffee any minute now.

"Mugs!" he exclaimed, his head jerking up. He pulled his phone from his pocket and punched in a number. "Bones! No mugs! Can you pop out and buy some? And I forgot sugar. And maybe we better get some cream because Pops loves cream and sugar in his coffee. God knows why, but he does. And maybe some donuts. Or a sandwich? Thanks!" he said and hung up.

He grabbed the bag of freshly ground coffee and popped the seal, sticking his nose deep into the bag and inhaling "mmm Oh God. You smell so good" he murmured romantically, nuzzling the gold foil bag. Booth carried the bag over and held it under Pops nose. "Smell that? Fresh coffee. You love fresh coffee." He waited a moment, hoping for a reaction, but getting none.

He shrugged and walked back over to the coffee machine. He used the small scoop and added coffee to the machine, put on the lid. Walked over to the bathroom and filled the jug with water, bringing it back and pouring it into the machine. He flicked the switch and smiled as the red light came on. "And away, we go!" he said jovially.

"OK Pops. Coffee is on. Brennan says I should talk to you, or tell you stories. So, I don't know. What shall I talk about?" he frowned, sitting down next to the bed and reached out and covered Pops hand with his. "This is harder than I thought" he said.

"Oh! Do you remember that time that Bones and I were on a case. And you were staying with me, and we took you with us to that club where all the, err, the girls with jam in their jelly were dancing?" He used the phrase that Pops had used when describing his grandmother. "And you joined in and you danced so much, the next day you could barely get out of your chair, because your legs and hips were so sore? Oh boy. You were having so much fun, I didn't have the heart to make you stop. Bones told me that you would regret it, but, Pops, if you could have seen the look on your face. You were so happy. And that just made me happy." His voice trailed off as he smiled at the memory of Pops dancing in between two voluptuous women.

"That was a good night" he added softly, stroking Hanks hand. "Your skin feels kind of like paper" he said randomly. He pulled out the drawers of the cabinet one by one and found a container of moisturiser. He opened it and sniffed it. His nose crinkled up "Eww! What is this shit? I mean crap. Sorry Pops."

He grabbed his phone again "Bones? Hand cream. Can you get some? The stuff here smells weird. What? No. They feel like crinkly paper. OK. Thanks!" he hung up. "Bones is gonna get you some nice hand cream. Something that doesn't smell like wet socks"

He took the lid off the hand cream and smelled it again, his nose screwing up tightly "Who on earth would want their hands to smell like this?" he asked nobody as he stood up and walked over to the trash can, dropping the tube into it.

"I think I made the coffee too soon. How about I make another fresh batch. Yeah." Booth said, rubbing his hands together. He grabbed the pot of coffee and carried it into the bathroom and tipped it down the sink. He rinsed the glass container, refilled it with fresh water and carried it back to the machine. He got a new filter, spooned in the ground coffee, and was almost about to pour the water into the machine. "Maybe I better wait until Bones gets back. Don't want to jump the gun again" he said, putting the jug of water down next to the machine.

Booth walked around the room, stopping by the window to look out. "You got a pretty good view here Pops. There's a nice garden down below us." He turned and grinned at Pops "when you wake up, I'll wheel you down there and we can have a sandwich for lunch. That sound nice?" He stared at the old man in the bed. He was still connected to one machine that monitored his heart and his temperature. He turned and looked out of the window.

"So, Bones told me that you mentioned to her about my Dad, and what happened. You know, when you found him beating me, and you kicked him out of the house for good. I want you to know that me and Jared, we probably wouldn't have made it if you hadn't done that. I wouldn't have made it." Booth said, his voice dropping low "I told her about that time when I was going to. When I wanted to. You know. End it. I know I was still a kid, but I just had so many guilty thoughts, you know? Only two people in the whole world know about that. You and Bones. You've both saved me at different times in my life. That's some coincidence, don't you think?"

Booth sighed. "Do you think you might wake up soon?" he asked softly. "Pops? You, you know Bones and me. We're gonna stay as long as we can. But, it would be easier if you could maybe, you know, wake up soon. But, hey." He walked over and sat down next to his grandfather. "If you need a few more days. That's cool."

Brennan walked into the room carrying a large brown paper bag. "Did you get the hand cream?" Booth asked standing up and walking over to grab the bag from her, his nose dipping down into the bag as he looked at the contents.

"Yes. I got a lovely organic cream. It's unperfumed."

"And coffee mugs?" he asked, not really listening to Brennan's description of the hand cream he had requested.

"Yes. I bought coffee mugs" she smiled.

Booth put the bag down on the end of the hospital bed and reached into it, pulling out two large bright blue mugs with large curled handles with what looked like actual gold scrolls. "These look fancy. Bones? Where did you get these from?" he asked, suspicious of the quality of the mugs.

Brennan cleared her throat "Well. I. They're beautiful mugs. And they're big, just like you like."

"Bones?" he asked again.

"Well, I was going to just get some cheap mugs, but when I looked at them, they just seemed poorly made, and the ceramic had tiny crackling, and I don't think that was good. And there was a lovely little kitchen store just down the road a little way from the Organic Store I found which is where I got the hand cream from. I loved it there! All their products are formulated with only pure organic essential oils, no artificial fragrances, and food-grade organic ingredients. Everything is handcrafted."

Booth stared at her.

"And I also bought myself some shower cream, and I picked up a face moisturiser for you. Your skin is looking a little dry. It's probably the stress." she continued.

He felt the corner of his mouth begin to twitch.

"And I was going to look for somewhere to get some cheap mugs, when I found the kitchen store, and they had so many beautiful mugs and oh, the dinner sets were to die for. I found one that matches our kitchen so perfectly. I know that it seems frivolous, considering why we are here, but I just couldn't walk out without it. You know I've been looking for a while"

"So how much did this quick trip to the shops cost?" Booth asked, knowing full well that she wouldn't tell him the exact truth.

"Not as much as you would think! The mugs were on special and they're so nice, don't you think? The handles are nice and big. So your fingers won't get stuck in them, like those one's at the hotel. I know how you hate that. So I bought four. Two for here, and two for the hotel room. Saves us bringing them backwards and forwards, don't you think? And then when we go home, we will have a set!" she said, smiling.

"I need coffee" Booth said, finally, turning away so she wouldn't see him grinning from ear to ear. He poured the water into the machine and pressed the button.

He turned around and saw Brennan sitting next to Pops, holding his hand, applying the hand cream gently, massaging it into his skin.

He watched her, his head tilted to one side, finding himself loving her even more than he already did.


	5. Chapter 5

Booth opened his eyes and blinked three or four times to clear the blur. It was getting worse.

 _I need to go see about getting glasses_ he thought randomly.

He lifted his head from the pillow and looked across Brennan's body to the clock on the bedside table. 4:35 glared at him in large fluorescent numerals. He flopped back down onto his pillow, then turned onto his side, punching the pillow into some sort of support for his head and shoulder and sighed loudly. Laying there for a few minutes he let his mind wander, then sighed again, and sat up, his feet dangling about an inch above the floor. _This bed is high. I like it._ He made a mental note to try to put blocks under the legs of his bed at home so that it was high like this one.

Turning his head from side to side, then tipping it so his ears dipped towards his shoulders, he stretched his neck, then raised his arms high above his head, hands linked, pulling upwards through his shoulders until it twinged his shoulder blade. He pulled his arm back down quickly, grabbing at his shoulder. _Darn it, that hurt_

Booth pressed the palms of his hands into the mattress and pushed himself forwards off the bed, landing softly on his feet. He walked around the room, flexing his back and legs, warming up his muscles. He sat on the only chair in the room and pulled on a pair of white sports socks, then pushed his feet into the sneakers that he had packed. He grabbed his baggy grey sweat pants and pushed his shoe clad feet down through the legs and tied the string at the waist so they wouldn't slide down. He shrugged on a white T-shirt and grabbed his phone and watch from the dresser and quietly opened the door of their hotel room and stepped out into the hallway.

Booth was comforted by the soft thudding of his feet against the sidewalk as he jogged along the street. He hadn't run in a long, long time. And his body was letting him know that it didn't appreciate it. His knees were feeling it before he had run a block, but he pushed himself onwards. The fresh cool air rushing against his face as he ran. He ran about three more blocks then pulled up, panting hard. His back was bent as he pressed the balls of his hands into his thighs just above his knees. _What was I thinking? I'm too old and too worn out for this shit._ he thought to himself.

But he knew why he was doing it. To forget, just for a moment about Pops lying in that hospital bed, not moving. He did it to not think about the possibility that with every day that went by, the chances of him waking up grew less. He did it to make himself feel something. Even pain. The pain in his body gave him something else to think about.

Booth straightened up and looked around him, then he turned and began limping back to the hotel.

Brennan wasn't in the bed when he got back. "Bones?" he called out, then realised that the shower was running. He felt his mood lift a little, and shrugged, smiling to himself. _I guess she knew I'd need a hot shower to relax when I got back_ He stripped off his Tshirt and undid the tie on his sweats, slipping them down, along with his boxers. Using his toes to hold the back of his shoes, he pulled his feet from them, and then bent down with a groan to pull off his socks.

He groaned as he stood back up, and rubbed at his lower back, then walked naked to the bathroom and pulled open the door "Honey. I'm home!" he called playfully before pulling back the shower curtain, making Brennan shriek.

Brennan sat at the small sideboard on the chair in a short robe, her hair wrapped up in a towel, watching Booth dry off. It wasn't an unpleasant experience at all. His long slim legs, white at the top and tanned below the knees, meeting his firm white buttocks. They reminded her of two alabaster orbs she had seen on a trip to Greece. He slid the towel up his legs, making the fine dark hairs stand up, then rubbed at his groin with a roughness that made Brennan wonder how that wasn't extremely uncomfortable.

Her head was tilted and she was completely mesmerised, not noticing that he was grinning at her as he rubbed the towel over his chest and under his armpits.

"So. You like what you see?" he asked cheekily.

Brennan heard him and flicked her eyes to the floor, feeling her face begin to burn. She shrugged and looked him in the eye "I've seen better" she replied.

Booth took her by surprise as he ran over to her and pulled her up out of the chair, dragging the towel from her hair and throwing it on the bed, before pressing his lips against hers, his body grinding against hers. "Liar" he mumbled into her mouth.

Her reply was to pull the sash from her robe, allowing his body to press against her warm soft skin.

"I think we need to stop for gas" Brennan said as they walked out of the hotel to their car. I noticed yesterday it was under a quarter of a tank.

"OK" Booth replied dreamily. He was still feeling a glow from their lovemaking. "I think I might grab some snacks to take to the hospital. There's something about that place that makes me hungry, but those snack machines just don't do it for me" he added as he unlocked the car.

They drove in silence to the gas station and Brennan grabbed some snacks while Booth filled the tank. He paid for their purchases and grabbed a newspaper, handing the attendant a handful of coins to cover the cost. "Might as well see what's going on in the rest of the world" he said, smiling.

Brennan put on her seatbelt and took the paper from Booth and scanned the front page. "There's been a murder last night. I wonder if the Jeffersonian will get involved?" she murmured.

"You know, if you need, or want to go back. It's OK." Booth said, halfheartedly. He really didn't want her to go, but if it was important, he knew that she might need to be there.

"Of course I'm not going back. This is where I need to be. This is where I want to be Booth. With you and Pops." she said, laying her hand on his arm. "For you"

Booth let go of the steering wheel with one hand and lay his hand over hers for a moment, pressing his fingers into the back of her hand.

"Morning Pops!" Booth called merrily as he entered Hanks hospital room. There was a faint lemony smell in the air. "Smells like the cleaners have been in already! Are they nice? They're not making any passes at you, are they Pops?" he joked as he kissed his grandfather's forehead. He adjusted the sheet across his chest and smoothed it down. "You feel a little cold." He said as he patted Pop's hand. Booth pulled up the blanket from the bottom of the bed, laying it over Pops chest. "There. I bet that feels better."

Brennan put the bag of snacks down next to the cupboard and opened the small refrigerator and pulled out the bag of coffee grounds "Coffee Booth?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"Hell yeah! We love our morning coffee, don't we Pops" he patted Hanks shoulder.

Her eyes went to the monitor by the bed. She pressed her lips together as she counted in her head. She felt her head shake slightly as she turned back to make the coffee.

A nurse appeared at the door and smiled "Good morning Mr and Mrs Booth. Just letting you know that the Doctor has been around early this morning. He wanted to let you know that he's available and would like to have a chat with you this morning" she said.

Brennan turned and looked at Booth, who's face had blanched.

"Thankyou. Can you give us five minutes. Does he want to see us in his office? Or here?" she asked.

The nurse nodded "I'm to page him and let him know. He will be coming by here" she looked at her watch "in about fifteen minutes. I'll get another chair for you too" She smiled at Booth and excused herself and went on about her business.

Brennan shrugged and pressed her lips together for a moment "Well, this will be interesting. I'd like to know what their prognosis is" she said, then said "I mean, not prognosis, I just would like to hear what they think about his progress" her voice strained.

"It's OK Bones. I know. It's not exactly looking hopeful, is it. He hasn't moved. His eyes don't flutter. He never changes his expression. I get it " his voice caught in his throat. "How about that coffee" he said, changing the subject for the time being.

Booth and Brennan sat side by side listening to Pops doctor, who was perched on the edge of Pops bed. Most of it whizzed by Booth. He was grateful Brennan was there. He knew that she would explain most of it to him. He was too busy looking at his Grandfather. Suddenly the doctor was standing up in front of him, his hand extended. Booth stood up and clasped his hand and muttered a thankyou.

Brennan walked the doctor to the door and thanked him for coming by to speak to them.

She turned and looked at Booth. He looked like a little lost boy.

"It's not good news is it Bones" he said turning to look at her. "I did get that bit" he added.

Brennan looked at the floor then walked over and sat next to him, reaching out for his hand.

"You can just tell me straight. What's happening. How long. I don't want to know all the medical stuff" Booth said sniffing.

"He's deteriorating. His heart is not as strong as it was five days ago when we got here. I noticed that on the monitor today." she said.

"And?" Booth said bluntly.

Brennan sucked her bottom lip in and stared at his hand for a moment. She shook her head "It could be any time. Tonight. Tomorrow. Maybe next week."

"But?" he said, sensing she had more to say.

"But probably not. I think we need to say our goodbyes Booth. I know this is hard for you. It's the hardest thing you've probably ever had to do." She said squeezing his hand. "So I'm going to say goodbye and I'm going to leave you with him. I know you probably have things to say to him. And you need to say them now." Brennan lifted his hand and kissed the back of it.

She stood up and bent down and hugged Pops frame. She could feel how much weight he had lost despite the drip that ran into him constantly. "Goodbye Pops. Thank you for giving me Booth. Thank you for teaching him how to be a good husband and father. " her voice caught in her throat making her stammer the last few words. She kissed his cheek and smoothed his hair gently, then stood up and pulled Booth up out of his seat.

"Take your time. Say everything you want and need to. Just call me when you're ready" she whispered in his ear. "And have hope Booth. We might have him for a few more days"

Booth hugged her tightly, not wanting her to go and leave him there. He wasn't ready to say the things he needed to. He nodded and finally released her.

She waved to him from the doorway.

Booth watched her disappear then stood for a moment, not sure what to do. He decided to pour himself another cup of coffee then sat down, pulling his chair as close to the bed as he could.

"So. It's just you and me Pops. I guess you heard the doctor. You're not doing so good."

Booth swallowed and picked up Pops hand and held it. "You know I'm grateful. Right? You did so much for me and for Jared. I've never really talked to you about Ed. Dad. I've carried a lot of anger about what he did inside me for most of my life. I get that he had a disease. Hell, I've inherited that shit from him. The difference is I've had someone at my back the whole time. First it was you, and now, it's Bones. He never had that I guess. After Mom left, he blamed her for everything. Every time he drank, gambled, beat me. It was her fault. And I blamed her too. I never blamed him." He shook his head "Not until that day you came over and he was out of control. That was the worst I've ever seen him. And I don't know that I would have made it out if you hadn't intervened and stopped him. I was glad he was gone. I was glad that he never came back. I was glad when he died. I can't say I wasn't, because I was. I'm still glad he died. I'm glad I never had to look him in the eye and had to listen to him justifying what he did to me."

Booth stopped talking and stared up at the machine, watching Pop's heartbeat. He could see now what Brennan was talking about. It was uneven and slow.

"Anyway, I want to say, I know what a huge thing it was you did. Taking on two teenage boys. I get it wasn't easy. We weren't easy. But we were kids. And I'm glad we had you. I wish my kids had been able to spend more time with you, but I know they are a handful, especially Christine. But know that she loves her Poppy Pops" he smiled. "And Parker has some good memories with you, and I'm grateful for that. Maybe if we had more time, you would have gotten to see that wish of yours come true for another baby. I'm sorry we haven't fulfilled that one. One day I would love to have another one or two. We'll see."

Booth sat back in his chair and sipped at his coffee. Remembering so many good times. "Remember when you used to cook me grilled cheese? You still make the best grilled cheese I've ever had. Even Bones loves it. I was thinking about that time you set fire to my old apartment. Do you remember that? I think that was the first time I actually realised you were getting old. You never seemed old to me. Bones sat me down after that and had a talk to me about you. I thought she was exaggerating, but I can see now what she was saying. She knew that you weren't taking your medication regularly after that time we found out you'd run out and hadn't refilled your prescription. Did you use that pill box she bought for you?" He sat waiting for a reply that didn't come.

" I'm sorry I probably ignored the signs that you might have been finding things a bit much. Like at the wedding. You were cooking for everyone. Looking after the kids. I just let you, without even thinking that it might have worn you out."

He stood up and stretched his back, walking over to the window. "I wish you would wake up so I could take you downstairs to the garden. It looks really nice down there." He said, turning back to Pops. "You know I tried to teach Parker how to pitch. I told him that you had a killer sinker. Turns out, he's like me. He has a great fast ball. You'd be proud of him."

Suddenly the machine monitoring Hank began blinking at a fast rate, then an alarm started sounding making Booth's face blanch.

"Help! Hey! I need help here!" he yelled as he ran to the doorway. He turned back and stared at Pops "I'm getting help. Don't go yet! I'm getting help!" he yelled pulling his phone from his pocket. He dialled Brennan "Hurry Bones. I think. He's not good! Hurry!" he yelled into the phone then dropped it as he ran back to Pops side.

He picked up his hand and held it tightly, he shook Pops by the shoulder with his other hand "Come on, Pops. Pops!"

He was pushed aside by nurses and a young doctor he hadn't seen before.

"Please sir, if you could just wait outside the room"

"No! No Way! I'm staying here!" he yelled back at the nurse who was already heading back to Pops.

Booth paced up and down, trying to see exactly what they were doing. He stood up on his tippy toes trying to see what they were doing.

The nurses and doctors basically formed an impenetrable circle around the old man. Booth could hear the whiz of the paddles firing up. He closed his eyes and hear the bang as they were applied. Again. And again. And

"Booth!" Brennan's voice distracted him.

He turned and felt her arms wrap around him tightly, her lips pressed to his cheek.

"I got here as soon as I could. I was just down at the coffee shop thankfully" she said breathing heavily. She turned and looked at what was happening. "Do you want me to go and ask them anything?" she offered. Booth shook his head and tightened his hold on her. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

It seemed like an hour later when the doctor turned and said the words he had hoped wouldn't come.

"time of death"

He didn't hear anything else. Booth pulled away from Brennan and ran over to the bed, staring down at his beloved grandfather. Tears filled his eyes, making it impossible to see Pops face clearly. He rubbed his face on his sleeve roughly. His throat felt like it had a massive lump in it.

"Pops" he croaked. He felt Brennan come up behind him. The doctor and nurses quietly left them with Hank Booth, telling them to take their time saying goodbye.

"Pops. Did you hear me? Did you know how much I love you?" he turned and looked at Brennan "Do you think he knew?"

Brennan was having trouble keeping her tears at bay "Of course he knew. He's always known Booth" she managed to say. Her voice was soft, soothing, and full of love for him.

They stayed with Hank for about half an hour. Booth would hug him every now and then, smooth his hair, hold his hand. Finally he stood up and looked at Brennan. "It's time." he said softly.

He started packing up the coffee machine. Brennan poured the left over milk down the bathroom sink. She packed up his clothes and asked Booth what they should do with them. Booth shook his head. "I'm taking his scarf, and his blanket. You can leave the rest here. They can donate them or something. I don't want to take them with me." He stopped and looked at the coffee machine and frowned "We don't need this." he said.

Brennan lay her hand on his arm "On our way out, I'll tell the nurse at the desk that they can have it for their staff room. But" she picked up the two mugs she bought "I'm keeping these beautiful mugs" she said placing them in a large plastic bag with the blanket and scarf."

Booth grabbed the photo frames and put them in the bag too. He stood looking around the room, then walked over and kissed Pops once more on the forehead. He could feel he was already cold and it was a shock to him. He pulled back and stared at his face one last time, then walked over to Brennan.

"OK. Let's go" he said.

She nodded and looked over at Pops. She knew that they still had some pain to go through arranging the funeral. But for now, Booth needed some breathing space.

They walked together to the door, Booth stood aside and let Brennan go through first. He turned and looked one last time at the man who had truly been the best father a boy could wish for.

 _Goodbye old man_ he whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

Booth stood looking up at the front of the church. It was the church that he had gone to with his grandparents as a child. Where he had received communion. Where he had confessed his sins on a regular basis. Where he had come for the funeral of his beloved Granny. Where he had come with Pops to pray for her for months and months after she had died. And then Pops stopped coming here. And so did he. And now, here he was. Waiting for the hearse that carried his Pops here for one last time.

Brennan stood under the large old oak tree to the side of the entrance to the church. Christine was fidgeting with the buckles on her handbag.

"Christine, please" she said.

"Mommy can we go home now? Can we go for icecream on the way home? Daddy loves icecream. And I love icecream too. Can we get icecream now? Mommy I'm bored" Christine's voice, somewhat whiney.

Brennan sighed. Angela had said that perhaps Christine was too young to go to a funeral. She offered to have Christine come to her house and stay with Michael Vincent and the sitter, but Brennan had insisted that children were never too young to learn about death and the archaic Christian tradition of laying a body to rest. She believed that many native tribes were far more efficient at sending their loved ones to join their ancestors.

"Mommy. Mommy? Mommy. Where's Daddy? Why is Daddy standing over there?" Christine's voice broke through the thoughts in her head. She looked down and sighed, wishing she had listened to Angela.

Angela and Jack were walking across the lawns towards her. She saw them stop and hesitate, then walk over to Booth. Angela hugged his stiff form and Jack stood by nodding, then they walked over to Brennan.

"He's not doing so good is he" Jack said shaking his head.

Angela reached out and hugged Brennan "I'm so sorry sweetie. But Pops wasn't in pain, right? We haven't had a chance to talk to you properly"

Booth and Brennan had only been home for a couple of days and hadn't really spoken to anyone. They spent the few days straight after Pops death, arranging his funeral and finalising things with the nursing home. They donated his furniture and clothing. Booth had kept his photo's and a few little personal things. The rest was disposed of.

Brennan shook her head "No. He wasn't conscious. It was fairly text book. And Pops was old." she said.

Angela stared at her friend, frowning for a moment. "Well, anyway. Booth is lucky that you were with him. I wouldn't think that he took it very well. So, is Jared coming?" she asked.

"Oh no. And don't mention him to Booth please." Brennan answered, shaking her head. "Booth tried calling, but of course, you know Jared. He never answered the phone. Or any of the text messages he sent to him. He's had four days to get in touch, but nothing. I'm fairly confident that if he turns up now? Booth will grab him by the collar and literally drag him out of the church and throw him into the street.

Angela tried not to smile. Jack laughed out loud, lightening the uncomfortable mood. "I'd actually pay money to see that" he said.

"Jack!" Angela admonished him.

"The hearse is here" Brennan said solemnly, making Angela and Jack turn around. Booth was walking towards them.

"Uh. Jack. I know it's kind of late notice. But, uh. Would you?" Booth stammered and pointed towards the hearse.

"Sure. Sure Booth! I'd be honoured" Jack said, following Booth to the back of the hearse where the coffin holding Pops had been slid out onto a chrome stand. It was cherry wood. Deeply polished with shiny brass handles along the side. One of the funeral directors was laying wreaths of fresh flowers on the lid.

Booth, Jack, Aubrey and three senior members of the church stood either side of the coffin and gently, reverently lifted it from the stand and began slowly walking towards the church doors.

* * *

Brennan sat next to Booth, close enough to, but not touching. She had one hand on Christine's leg, hoping to keep her still. Christine had a bag of activities next to her. Colouring books and pencils, a story book, and some snacks.

Booth was like stone. Staring straight ahead at the coffin. The lid was closed. The young priest had suggested that they have an open coffin so that members of the congregation could come and pay their respects. Booth said no. Pops had not been to the church for at least twenty years. Probably more. Nobody in the congregation would even know who he was. So it remained closed. Giving Pops both dignity and privacy. Plus, Booth didn't want to see him again. Not like this.

Brennan was acutely aware of everything around her. The smell of candles burning. The scent of the flowers on the coffin. The sounds of feet shuffling and murmuring voices. The colours of the stained glass windows. She watched microscopic particles of dust dancing in the rays of coloured light that were coming down from the windows. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, slowly exhaling. She felt Booth's fingers slide across her leg and entwine with the fingers of her hand resting on her knee.

She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly and looked into the deep, dark pools that were his eyes. They were shining with unfallen tears. She licked her lips and blinked. His head dipped and he kissed her lips, long, slow, gentle. Then he sat up straight and stared at the coffin.

"Mommy"

"shhh Christine. You need to whisper" Brennan whispered to Christine.

"But Mommy"

"Christine" Brennan leaned down and whispered "Please."

"I need to pee Mommy!" Christine's voice pierced the heavy silence of the church.

Brennan sat up and stared at Booth, who was looking at his daughter. The corner of his mouth twitched. Angela started giggling. Jack started giggling through his fist, his eyes filling up with tears. Brennan turned around and half the people behind them were trying not to laugh.

Christine stood up and started jigging up and down "Mommy. Pee!" she cried out.

Booth began to laugh. It was deep in his chest, and worked it's way up to his throat and then he began to bellow. Really laughing. Out loud.

"Booth" Brennan said, her face red with embarrassment.

"It's fine. Pops would be laughing right now. Go. Take her to the toilet. Pops isn't going anywhere" he laughed.

Booth stood up and turned around "Sorry everyone. Put when you gotta go, you gotta go" he said, his mouth turned up at the corners, his teeth, large and white showing.

Brennan grabbed Christine by the hand and quickly pulled her along the aisle and went out to the toilet block that was around the side of the church. When she came back inside, Booth was standing up talking to the priest. He was young. Younger than Booth. They were laughing. She looked around. People were chatting, smiling and laughing. She walked back down the aisle, feeling self-conscious as people smiled at her and said hello to Christine. They took their seats at the front and she smiled at Booth mouthing _Sorry_

Booth remained standing and stared at the congregation for a moment then stepped over to the podium and cleared his throat, speaking into the microphone.

"Hello? Uh Hi. Hi. Thanks. Thanks for coming to say goodbye to my grandfather. Henry Joseph Booth. Although his friends all called him Hank. I called him Pops. So for today, I'm going to be referring to him as Pops. I had a thing all written out " Booth waved around several sheets of paper, then screwed them up and shoved them down into his pocket.

"Pops always told me to speak from the heart. That's what I'm going to do. Pops was born in 1930. Only son of Rose and Bert Booth. Sadly none of his siblings are living. He was a Korean War veteran and served in the military police and the 82nd Airborne Division, which was what influenced me to walk that path myself, actually. Pops was a huge influence in my life. He basically saved my brother and I. We had a bit of a bad childhood. Our father Edwin, Pops only child, was a bit of a dick" he turned to the priest "Sorry Father. He wasn't exactly a great father. Thankfully Pops and Granny took us in and looked after us. He taught us everything. How to use a hammer and nails without smashing our thumbs. He taught me how to do simple household repairs. He taught me how to cook. Seriously, the man made the best grilled cheese in the world. Bones. Uh, my wife Temperance can attest to that" he said pointing to Brennan who waved and nodded.

"Pops taught me to be a good father. My son Parker, couldn't be here today as he lives in England. I know he would want to be here, but he was just out here recently when Bones, Temperance and I got married, so" he turned and looked at the coffin "Sorry Pops. I know Parker would have wanted you to know that he loved you, and you were the best grandfather. Well, great grandfather actually, to him and to our daughter Christine."

He looked back at the sea of faces. Max was there. And his mother Marianne had even put in an appearance with her husband. There were people from the FBI including Aubrey. Cam, Jack and Angela, Daisy, Jessica, Arastoo and even Clark, Wendell and Rodolfo were there from the Jeffersonian. His gaze stopped on Caroline Julian, and smiled at her. She had been a rock for him over the years he had worked with her. So many people, who had met and known his grandfather. The one face that was missing was Jared. Booth wanted to be mad at him, but all he felt was regret that his younger brother couldn't be bothered acknowledging the passing of the man that had raised him. _His loss_ he thought to himself _It's his loss Pops, and I know you won't agree with me, but I'm not going to contact him again. The ball's in his court now_

Booth smiled out at everyone and took a deep breath _._

"Pops was a good man. He was honest. He was caring. And he was wise. So wise." He shook his head and looked over at Brennan, grinning. " My wife told me about something Pops once said to her. Way back before we even thought we would get together. He knew. He knew we would, long before it occurred to either of us" he laughed and shook his head. "He said 'Everyone needs someone. Don't be scared. It all goes by so fast, and you don't want any regrets.' And he was, and is, right. Life is short. We all need to be brave and do everything. Take chances and don't be scared to try. So, I just want to say thank you Pops. Thanks for raising me. For loving me. For being there for me whenever I needed you. I love you. I miss you. I will always think of you and smile. I'll say again, what I said to you when I left the hospital. Goodbye old man"

* * *

Booth stood at the door of the church with Brennan by his side. Christine went outside with Jack and Angela. They smiled and shook hands with people they've never met and thanked them for coming. Finally the priest came up and shook Booth's hand. "You know I did know your grandfather. I wasn't a priest back then of course. I was an altar boy. But I knew him and your grandmother. She used to bake cookies and cakes for our bake sales. Her cinnamon cookies were the best I've ever eaten. Even today, I've never had a better cookie. He will be missed Seeley. But he is in the arms of God and his beautiful wife now. He is with his parents and his sisters. He is safe and warm and healthy. God bless and keep you and your family" he said, and nodded and turned and walked back into the silence of the church.

Booth stood with Brennan for a few moments looking up at the sky. "Do you think he saw? Do you think he'd be proud of me? "

Brennan grabbed his arm and pulled it, forcing him to look down at her "Of course he was proud of you Booth! He loved you so much. I don't really understand your belief that people become some sort of higher being, who watch their loved ones from above. Although, I will say that dream I had when I was shot was quite realistic, and it did give me comfort, so I'll say, if you believe he is watching you? Then that's what matters. It gives you comfort and it makes you happy. Then that makes me happy." she said.

Booth nodded and smiled. He looked around and held out his arms "Christine! Come on." he called out.

Christine came skipping over with Angela and Hodgins in tow.

"We're going to go to the local tavern down the road from the nursing home. Pops and I used to go there when I came to visit him. We've just arranged some finger food and drinks for a sort of informal get together with anyone who wants to come" Booth said to them. He walked over to their group of friends that had come and told them about the get together, then headed back to Brennan and Christine.

"Well. Let's go. I need to raise a glass for Pops. Then, I'll be satisfied that I've done my best for him" Booth said.

Brennan strapped Christine into her car seat and stood up, looking at Booth over the roof of the car.

He noticed her just staring "What?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just hope that our children will love and admire us as much as you do Pops. I'm proud of you Booth. Pops couldn't have asked for anyone better to be his grandson." she said.

"It wasn't hard Bones. He was easy to love" Booth said, smiling and then getting into the drivers seat.

Brennan stood there for a moment longer "So are you Booth. So are you"


End file.
